


Attention Shoppers

by emma98



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Darcy and Steve battle to the death for a toy, Darcy drives her RV around North America and is awesome at it, Darcy is a great driver, F/M, Well not battle to the death. Darcy just messes Steve up a little, background bucky nat, quick inferno. the happy opposite of slow burn, rated for bad potty language, silly sort of action and adventure, three times Steve gets his butt whooped by Darcy and then one time he totally doesn't, we've all done foolish things to get that hot toy of the season
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-29
Updated: 2016-12-29
Packaged: 2018-09-13 06:37:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9110962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emma98/pseuds/emma98
Summary: Nathaniel Barton is a sweet angel of a child, despite the genetics that state he should be a troublemaker, and all he wants for Christmas is the hottest and most wanted toy on the face of the planet.Steve Rogers is determined to get that doll for the angel child who has brought joy into all of Team Cap's lives.The problem is he isn't the only one who wants to get their hands on that doll.  Steve is not going to know what hit him.





	

**Author's Note:**

> And this, friends, is the last Christmas/Holiday themed fic I have in my bag of tricks.
> 
> I think I saved the best for last? Well, this one is MY personal favorite, but I'm kind of trash for crazy zaniness and Darcy kicking butt and taking names (And Steve being forever attracted to Darcy kicking butt and taking names)
> 
> I hope that you enjoy this!!

**Attention Shoppers**

* * *

  
  


The only thing that little, eighteen month old Nathaniel Barton wanted for Christmas was the ultra deluxe, talking, dancing, singing, roller skating Mickey Mouse doll.  The doll was practically a sentient AI, and would dance and sing when the child wanted it.  He'd talk to the child.  He'd blink.  He'd sing lullabies when it was naptime.  He's tell stories when the child was bored.  He'd point out colors and shapes and letters in the day to day surroundings and prompt the child to parrot back the information.

 

Steve wasn't one for toys.  He knew that they'd come a long way since he was a child.  Although maybe not as much as toymakers believed, because the blind bags that Cooper and Lila and CLINT Barton were obsessed with were something they used to do at the corner store back in the roaring 20’s, giving the grocer two pennies and getting a little burlap bag with a cheap surprise toy and a few pieces of candy to boot.

 

Granted, today's blind bags had little cartoonish figures of  _ him _ in them, but still.  They were an old idea, made shiny and new.  

 

But the Mickey Mouse doll was something else.  Steve could understand why the little baby boy would do nothing but talk about Mickey all day long.  He knew three words.  Mommy, Daddy and Mickey.  Lila Barton had figured out quickly that Nathaniel would be her little performing monkey if she simply said "Mickey wants you to do this and then he'll come to live with you after Christmas!"

 

So far, Lila had managed to get the boy to dance on command whenever she so pleased (the little guy was a surprisingly good dancer, having learned to dance during the summer when he, his mother and siblings were driven slowly to the secret base and delivered to Clint and safety by a friend of Thor's who had become known as the transporter).  Nathaniel would also give kisses on Lila's command now.  She'd sent the baby to attack Wanda with aggressive toddler affection more times than they could count.  Wanda never seemed to mind.  The baby would also sing nonsense words if Lila asked him to, mostly just _ lalalas _ and  _ oh oh oh's _ and the aforementioned Mommy and Daddy and Mickey to the tune of whatever 80’s pop song that had been stuck in Scott Lang’s head that day.

 

Nathaniel was an angel of a child, as far as Steve was concerned.  He brought so much joy to their dire circumstances as outlaw heroes.  And Nathaniel really wanted that Mickey doll.

  
  


So Steve was determined to obtain it for him.

 

He was going to get one of those damned Mickey Dolls for the sweet little boy who Steve definitely loved and cherished.

 

The problem was, of course, that everyone else in the world wanted one too.  Sam had reported with some distress that the toy was the most wanted toy on the face of the planet.  The doll couldn't be found in the store and it was selling out on ebay for astronomical markups very, very quickly.  

 

Steve was so desperate to get his hands on the toy, he was tempted to call Tony on the emergency burner phone he had sent.  He somehow doubted that Tony would be amused that he tried to mend fences with the request for a toy.  (And Steve had already tried to contact Pepper Potts about it, she was doing her best to find one, but was having no luck, which was not something Pepper was used to).

  
  


There wasn't much else to do in their secret base in a secluded valley in the Appalachian mountains.  They ran through their daily routines of small practices, keeping their facility running smoothly, keeping their ear to the ground for when they'd be needed, and the boring particulars of everyday living.  The main mission objective was: stay hidden and find the Mickey Mouse Doll.  The entire team was obsessed with finding this toy.

 

Sam and Wanda monitored social media for sightings of it.  When Natasha was on base, she had a quinjet ready and waiting to go, should they get a location.  Clint and Laura obsessively called stores.  Scott was constantly texting his "team" on the outside to see if they could get their hands on one.

 

It had been three weeks of Project Mickey, and not one hot lead.

 

Two weeks before Christmas, Steve's cell phone buzzed and he furrowed his brow.  Everyone he knew that would call was at the base.  Natasha had a few days of downtime as she waited for the heat from interpol to die down on her latest quest to find something to help Bucky.

 

"Rogers," he answered swiftly.

 

"Steve, it's Pepper," the Stark Industries CEO's voice was quiet and guarded, as if she were ready to tell him a secret.  "I found one."

 

"What?" Steve breathed, dropping the schedule he had been looking at for the Transporter.  The same mysterious person who had dropped off Laura and the children without even checking in with anyone was out and about still.  Sometimes the transporter would drop off supplies to them and be gone before Steve could ever even thank them.  Sometimes the transporter brought people.  It was how Natasha had found them as well.  He was curious as to where the transporter would be, and if it might be a good idea to get them involved as well in the search for the Mickey Mouse doll.

 

"One unsold doll," Pepper whispered.  "The manufacturer says the serial number hasn't been activated online and it took me signing over all future Avengers toy licensing deals to their company..."

 

"That's okay," Steve said quickly.  He pointed at Natasha and gestured towards the quinjet before turning to look at an excited Sam and Wanda, giving them a half smile. "Whatever it takes."

 

"Good," Pepper breathed a sigh of relief.  "You're heading to Zilner's General Store, in Washburn, North Dakota."

 

"Thank you so much for this, Pepper," Steve said breathlessly as he and Natasha boarded the quinjet.  "This means so much to all of us."

 

"Yeah, I know," Pepper's smile could be heard over the phone.  Then a moment of hesitation.  "But Steve?  You're not the only one who has this information.  The CEO said that a very determined young woman conned her way into his fifty-seventh birthday party and persuaded him into giving her access to his database.  It's how they figured out how to track them, actually."

 

"Okay, we're leaving now," Steve nodded.  "Thanks again, Pepper."

 

* * *

 

Washburn, North Dakota was a very small town.  Incredibly small with a population of less than 1,500 people.  

 

Darcy Lewis drove her old, clunky, serviceable RV through the town, adjusting the cheap sunglasses that she wore over her regular glasses.  The RV had seen her through a lot.  She'd inherited it shortly after London.  It had been the same RV that had run over Thor and transported all the other Asgardians back to the desert.  It had been confiscated by SHIELD, and miraculously, it had wound up in front of she and Jane's lab in New Jersey two days after they had arrived back in the States after the Dark Elf fiasco.

 

Old Ralphie, which is what she called the RV that had been her only vehicle for the last three and a half years, had been through a lot.  And to her delight, when Hydra came after Jane in the spring of 2014, they quickly discovered that Old Ralphie might have gotten a few upgrades during his stay with SHIELD.  

 

Darcy suspected Coulson.  Namely because the tiny bathroom was now decorated in cartoon Captain America paraphernalia.  There was also a tiny safe that Darcy had managed to break into after two years of trying, and inside was a very valuable, pristine, vintage set of action figures.  Captain America and Bucky Barnes.  They were very cute, but Darcy left them be, less Coulson come back from the dead and try to avenge the action figures that Darcy had been tempted to give new clothing (action figure Bucky looked dapper in his Ken Doll tuxedo).

 

But the best upgrades to the RV had been the bullet proof walls.  Also, the missile subversion system built into the nearly archaic, but incredibly reliable GPS unit.  And the handy dandy entertainment system was pretty awesome.  The bluetooth synced up to her ipod right away and whenever it was synched through Old Ralphie, it always had the best shuffle mixes.

 

Darcy checked the GPS again.  She would be arriving at her destination in less than two minutes.  Zilner's General Store, Washburn, North Dakota.  One fancy and amazing Mickey Doll would be her prize.  She had had to veer from her original path of picking up one of Scott's crazy friends in Arkansas and then delivering him back to the Secret Avenger's base, but really, what trouble could that Luis guy get into in a tiny town in Arkansas?  He'd be just fine and she could get a little holiday shopping done.

 

And then, come Christmas time, when she finally had a few months downtime to spend at Steve Rogers and company’s secret base in the Appalachia, she could be declared the best Aunt ever by an adorable little man who she loved to bits and pieces.

 

Darcy squinted down the one road in the sleepy town, lifting up the sunglasses that were on top of her glasses and peering to see the very tall, athletic sort of man dressed in jeans and a flannel running down the street.  Running very, very fast.  Zooming really.

 

And heading right to the store that had what Darcy so desperately needed.

 

"Oh hell no."

 

* * *

 

  
  
  
  


Getting hit by a truck and running into a stationary truck with supersoldier steam power are two very different things.  Steve would know.  He's done both multiple times.  He didn't know what was in the RV that had zipped in front of his path at a seemingly impossible rate, spinning  a complete three hundred and sixty degrees before coming to a dead stop five feet in front of Steve.  It could have been that the truck was fortified with rocks.  Steve remembered Cooper geeking out about the densest material on Earth and he figured that the RV might have been filled with osmium rocks. Or the vehicle itself might have been crafted with it.

 

(It wasn't.  Hogun the mighty Asgardian Warrior had blessed the RV way back in New Mexico with magic...spit, making it impenetrable and practically immovable).

 

Whatever it was, Steve dropped his shoulder to ram into the front edge of it, expecting it to move and give way to his super strength.  Instead, the laws of physics had Steve rebounded off of the vehicle with the same force he had been trying to use to ram into it.

 

He'd always wanted to fly, but he much preferred Sam's wings or Wanda’s energy blasts to this method as he went hurtling up twenty feet in the air and back one and a half whole blocks on the deserted street.  He landed against a doomed cement bench, turning it into rubble with his bulk.  

 

"Fucking hell," Steve gasped out as he struggled to stand again.  He put a hand to his ear and said, "Romanoff...we have a fucking problem."

 

"What do you mean we have a problem?" Clint demanded over the comms, and Steve could hear the rest of his team in the background panicking.  Lila's shriek of terror could be heard.  "You got an unfriendly?"

 

Steve tried to stubbornly blink the pain away as he watched the driver's door to the RV pop open and a small brunette wearing a hideous sparkly green sweater with a giant cartoonish face of Rudolph...complete with blinking red LED light nose.  The sweater was an injustice to his eyeballs, but also, it had just enough stretch across the bust to make it one of the prettiest damned sights he had ever seen.  The driver of the vehicular manslaughter mobile wore a knit hat over brown curls, and the hat had outlandish antlers on it.

 

He would admit she was a looker as she squinted through black rimmed glasses down at Steve's landing place.  She shrugged and waved merrily before running to the general store that had Steve's primary objective in it.

 

"Cap, what the hell is going on?" Clint demanded.  "Lila's about to faint, and Wanda is going to go nuclear if this doesn't work out.  Sam, do that thing that calms Wanda down."

 

"But you and Cap said it was forbidden!" Sam yelled.

 

"DO IT!" Clint ordered.  

 

Steve wrinkled his nose as he pulled himself to his feet and brushed the literal cement dust off of himself.  What he wouldn't give for his shield at that moment.  He knew he could get it to bounce off the light post and it would be sent directly towards the general store front door, jamming it closed if he could get the right spin on it.  But he didn't have a shield.  He had a panicking home base, a mission that was rapidly becoming derailed and a curvy looker in a ridiculous sweater SKIPPING towards his toy.

 

"Where are you Romanoff?  I need cover!" Steve demanded, and got no response.

 

"Steve," Clint said quietly.  "What are you looking at, man?  What can we do to help?"

 

"A woman hit me with her car," Steve fibbed a little, not willing to admit that he purposefully tried to run himself into the car to derail the mystery woman.  "She's going to get the doll. Romanoff?  Where are you?"

 

"Move outta the way, bird brain," Laura demanded, pushing Clint away from the comm system.  "Steve."

 

"Barton," Steve winced as he staggered towards the store, his brow furrowed with sudden intense concentration.  

 

"I don't care what you have to do," Laura said with all the gravitas and forcefulness of a general.  "You get to that woman, and you get that doll."

 

"Babe, he can't hurt a civilian," Clint argued.

 

"I'm not talking about hurting anyone," Laura spat out.  "This is serious business, this isn't running around in a patriotic onesie to save the world.  This is Christmas shopping, and you will do what you need to do in order to get that doll."

 

"Take off your shirt!" Scott shouted from the background.

 

"Offer to kiss her!" Cooper contributed.

 

"Rogers, do you understand?" Laura demanded.  "Anything it takes.  You bat those ridiculously long eyelashes over those baby blues.  You bend over coquettishly, you reach for the high shelf so your shirt rides up.  You offer to father her babies.   _ Anything it takes. _ "

 

"Aside from killing or violence, cause you know," Sam sighed.  "We're already wanted fugitives."

 

"I'll get it," Steve promised, his stagger righting itself as he felt the soreness ebb out of his muscles as the adrenaline kicked in.  He began to trot in earnestness towards the store, determined to do what he needed to obtain the precious toy.

 

* * *

  
  


Darcy had the coveted package safely secured under her arm and she was taking her sweet time perusing the candy aisle, wondering just how old some of the packages were, because the zagnuts looked like they were from the 1940's.  She shrugged and grabbed the entire case anyway.  Natasha had told her she would need a big supply of them for when she had her beloved up and out of cryofreeze in the new year.  Apparently zagnuts were the former Winter Soldier's favorite candy bar.  

 

Darcy was willing to do whatever she needed to do in order to help out the team.  As was evidenced by her occupation of the last few years since she heard about the Sokovia Accords.  She knew Thor wouldn't want to be apart of them, and she began to go to work at building something for the heroes who wouldn't want to sign up.  As far as she was concerned, when she was ready to meet Captain America, he owed her.  Big time.

 

Thor had given her all control over his Midgardian monetary possessions.  And Darcy had wisely taken all of the money from the licensing of Thor's image, donated half to charity, and then made some pretty big purchases.  

 

For one, she'd collaborated with Pepper Potts, who was on the outs with Tony and was none too keen to have herself be signed up as a potential weapon of mass destruction at Secretary of State Douche Wagon Ross's disposal.  With Pepper's help, she bought the land in the Appalachia that the secret Avengers were hiding out in.  Then she'd spent months finding the right builders and the right suppliers.  The last slap of paint had gone on the existing structures two weeks before Bucky Barnes supposedly bombed the UN.  

And since that moment she'd been driving that RV around North America, picking up people and supplies and once a really enormous freezer that she'd hoped wasn't ACTUALLY for Bucky Barnes to sleep in.  

  
  


Darcy walked through the store leisurely, not feeling even a little bit bad about the moron who had had the audacity to try to ram himself into Ralphie.  Who ran towards a truck like that?  Some kind of idiot, obviously.

 

She'd call the paramedics to pick up the dude who had gone through a bench (Darcy had mistakenly assumed it had just been a wooden bench from the distance) when she was done perusing the store that time forgot.  She went to reach for the oldest bottle of aftershave she had ever seen, wondering if it might be a nice gift to bring back to Captain America for Christmas.  Nothing broke the ice like a nice gift, and the aftershave looked to be older than the man himself was.

 

A broad, solid shoulder got in the way of the aftershave and Darcy blinked up at a dust covered man, larger than most men.  He looked just like the dude that had bounced off of Ralphie the RV, but that was impossible because that dude was totally not unconscious.  

 

He was handsome, with dark brown hair that had obviously been recently dyed to cover up grays, steely cobalt blue eyes staring down at her, a full bottom lip set in an unwavering, straight line, and a beard covered jaw that could be used to cut through Asgardian burinium (the densest material in all of the realms) like a hot knife through butter.  

 

"Oh, hey, dude," Darcy nodded at him, reaching into the as yet unlimited reserves of moxie and pluck she carried within her.  "You should watch where you're going.  Not cool to try to run into a person's car."

 

"That's mine," the man spoke lowly and reached for the boxed toy under Darcy's arm.

 

Darcy made a shift of her body, something that had been drilled into her by a multitude of strong women in her life, starting with her dear Aunt Kimmy at the age of five, who told Darcy that if she never wanted a man to lay hands on her, she would have to learn to decimate the hands that reached for her.  And then came Natasha.  And then came Sif.  And then came Maria Hill.  And then came Laura Barton.  

 

Darcy had been well trained to keep unwanted hands away from her person.

 

She shifted and brought her foot down hard on the dusty man's instep, then swiftly brought a powerful and bony knee right up into a dust covered groin.  

 

She was small.  But she was mighty.

 

The would be toy snatcher had all the air forcefully leaving his lungs as he immediately fell to his knees, both hands clutching a sizeable, incredibly decimated package.  Darcy grinned bigger than the sun before she adjusted Mickey under her arm again before reaching for the aftershave as well.  

 

She made it to the front counter with her purchases and cheerfully chatted with the ninety-four year old man who worked the one-hundred and two year old cash register like a pro.  The spry little fellow with the little gold plated name tag that said Stanley gave her a wink behind tinted glasses and asked,

 

"You want me to call the cops on Handsy Mcfeels-a-lot back there?" 

 

The wounded man in Aisle 2 let out a muffled, pained groan in response.  

 

"Nah, I'll be good, Stanley," Darcy assured him.  "I'll be out of town in five minutes.  And Ralphie can outrun anyone."

 

"Well, it'll take him the next two weeks till Christmas to get feelings in his man parts again," Stanley nodded, beaming proudly at the dishy little dame who reached for a pack of candy canes.  "Will you be paying with cash or check, little lady?"

 

* * *

"ROGERS.   _ ROGERS _ .  Are you conscious?  Can you hear me?"

 

Steve blinked his eyes open and looked at the lovely hardwood floor of the general store.  He wondered how much time had passed.  He could hear Natasha in his ear.  He could slowly hear the sound of a powerful engine roaring to life and then the unmistakeable squeal of tires as someone got the hell out of Dodge.  Very slowly, his hands came off of his sore and pained manhood, and he managed to roll onto his back, staring up at the store lights blankly.

 

"Get the hell out of that store, Rogers," Natasha ordered.  "I have eyes on the package, but she's faster than your average recreational vehicle."

 

Steve heard laughter in his ear blending with Natasha's words as he slowly came back to the land of the living.  That was Barton's laughter.  Not Clint's.  Laura's.

 

"Thank you for the early Christmas present, Nat," Laura cackled.  "Guys, guys, watch this---look at her---she just made Steve Rogers into a natural soprano."

 

Steve peered into the corner of the store and sure enough, there was a surveillance camera.  He groaned out again as he realized Natasha had managed to get the feed of the security camera.  And she had, of course, sent it back to the family/team back at the home base.  His ears picked up on the displaced air from the quinjet engines and realized that she had FINALLY come in as backup.

 

"Get up off your ass, Rogers," Natasha advised.  "Store top in two minutes and maybe I can get you to that RV in time."

 

Steve turned off the comm so that he didn't have to hear he delighted laughter of his home base.  He just barely heard Lila Barton calling out

 

"Wait---RV?? You mean Ral---"

 

Steve struggled to his feet for the second time that day and huffed out a sigh before nodding at the amused cashier and making his way out of the store in order to scale up the rickety old fire escape.  

 

Now, more than ever, he was determined to get that damned Mickey Mouse doll for little Nathaniel Barton.

 

* * *

 

"Hola Arachnid-lady!" Darcy chirped as she drove like a madwoman through the empty and deserted roads out of the one stop sign town.  

 

"Darcy," Natasha answered back, the hint of a smile shading her voice.  "When are you coming home for Christmas?  The kids miss you."

 

"I just gotta go and get that Luis guy, and then I'm all yours," Darcy promised.  "So, two days, tops?"

 

"Actually, you don't have to get Lozado," Natasha sighed a little.  "He got into a spot of trouble, Maria went in to retrieve him."

 

"He was in Arkansas for eight hours!" Darcy disputed.

 

"Eight hours is enough time for Lozado to accidentally infiltrate an AIM offshoot," Natasha sounded  _ proud _ .  "Either way, you're off the hook for that pickup.  Head home, Darce."

 

"Okay, awesome.  Don't tell anyone but I got a---"

 

A loud booming sound echoed from Ralphie's roof and Darcy jumped behind the driver's seat.

 

"Nat!  I got an unfriendly on my roof," Darcy announced.  "Can you come help?"

 

"Getting your coordinates, I'll be there as quick as I can," Natasha promised.  "ETA, five hours."

 

"Shit," Darcy cursed, wondering what the hell was on top of her vehicle for about five seconds before pushing her lips into a determined pout and deciding that she didn't care WHAT was on top of her darling Ralphie, she was going to get them the hell off.  

 

Two small, strong hands gripped the wheel and she put her right foot down on the gas pedal hard, her left foot hovering over the brake.  Despite the sudden increase in speed, she heard scrabbling on the roof as whoever was on top was trying to work their way to the hatch to get IN.  

 

"Oh hell no," Darcy muttered.  She looked at the picture on her dash, the picture of when she, Thor, Jane and Selvig had visited her beloved Aunt Kimmy just six months before she passed away.  "This is for you, Aunt Kimmy."

 

The hatch opened and a dusty shoe and muscular jean covered leg began to drop in and Darcy furrowed her brow at the sight of it.  She didn't hesitate though in slamming her left foot down on the brake as she eased the right foot off the gas.  Her hands began rapidly spinning the wheel and before she knew it she had all of the Class A motorhome in a rapid, wicked spin on the deserted road.  She felt her own body pulling painfully against the seat restraints and heard a roared

 

"FUCK!"

 

from the top of the motorhome as the stubborn attacker held on for dear life, having his entire body battered back and forth in the magically reinforced steel of Ralphie's chassis. 

 

The dust covered, obviously enhanced superhuman was like a soft banana in a blender, the metal of the car smacking against him as he continued to try to get into the RV.  Darcy took a deep breath before throwing poor Ralphie in park and stopping it abruptly so that her beloved RV got up on two wheels, nearly toppling over on the old cement road.  It did the trick though, the tenacious muscles of the man gave out, and he lost control as he came down,  Ralphie's Asgardian Burinium infused and Hogun spit enhanced hatch cover smacked the intruder on the head, making him fall like a puppet whose strings had been cut to Ralphie's floor.

 

* * *

 

 

The sound of a crackling fire brought Steve into wakefulness after the blissful black unconsciousness had overtaken him as the seriously demented lady with the toy tried her best to kill him with her vehicle.  Again.

 

He blinked his eyes open slowly and saw that the night was pitch black, void of stars.  The only light was coming from the crackling, pitiful fire that he knew wouldn't last more than an hour or two more and he let out a strangled sound as he took mental stock of his situation.

 

He had a concussion, or he had had a concussion and was slowly healing from it.  He recognized the fuzzy feeling at the base of his skull that meant it was nearing the end of the concussion.  

 

"Shit, he's alive.  Thank fuck," the feminine whisper announced into the night air.  "Radio silence, please come as soon as you can.  Dee out."

 

Steve kept taking stock of the state of his body.  There was nothing broken or sprained, thank goodness.  He was essentially just one big healing bruise at that point as the fog began to clear from his brain.  He tried to turn to sit up and found he couldn't, as he was hog tied very securely, his wrists behind his back and connected by a rope to tightly bound ankles.  He could tell that his ear piece had fallen out some time during the wild ride on the bucking bronco of a recreational vehicle earlier.

 

And he could tell the buxom little dame had drug him from the RV.  There was definite gravel in the crack of his ass.

 

"You are a tough man to keep unconscious," the woman said with a softness that sounded almost apologetic.  "I'm glad I didn't kill you though."

 

"I'm not so easy to take down," Steve answered.  "I don't mean any disrespect, Miss Dee, these ropes are tied perfectly, but I'm going to have to break them, and I'm going to be taking that toy and giving you an honest amount of money for it, and then I'll be on my way."

 

"Yeah, sorry, dude, that's not going to happen," the mysterious 'Dee' chuckled.  "And if you use your mutant powers to do it, I have a very deadly and powerful friend on the way to help me, and she and I will DEFINITELY track you down and make you pay."

 

"You don't understand, that toy---it means everything," Steve sighed, shifting his body enough to stare at the woman in her face.  She was beautiful in the firelight.  He could admit that.  Her tenacious attitude and resourcefulness and her ability to take him down THREE times in one day also helped add to her attractiveness (which said a lot about Steve's personal preferences in women).  He sighed and shook his head, "I don't mean to upset you, but this is going to happen.  It's the happiness for a lot of people, Miss Dee.  People that I care about. Please."

 

"I'm sorry to be taking this from you," Dee admitted.  "But I made a promise. And that toy is the key to happiness for a lot friends of mine.  Family, really."

 

They seemed to be at a stalemate now.  And both realized that it was quite the stalemate as they both were two stubborn and determined people.  

 

"Are you going to leave me here? Because I'll tell you that the fire won't last," Steve jutted his chin towards the already waning fire.  "You'd let a poor man freeze out here?"

 

"I'll leave you a blanket," came the soft response.

 

"It'll get down to around freezing out here," Steve advised her.  "That'd kill me.  You don't look like a killer, Miss."

 

"It's a really special blanket," Dee promised, getting up from her place next to the pitiably waning fire that she had created to head back to the little pile of things she had removed from Ralphie to leave the man and get him the blanket that Thor had gifted her.  It was meant to keep a true warrior warm in the most dire of circumstances.  She didn't know who the handsome bearded man with the steely blue eyes and the stubborn nature was, exactly, but she knew that he was certainly a warrior.  

 

She had just turned her back on him when the ropes made an audible ripping sound.  She turned to face him and he was already on his feet, his hand in his back pocket.

 

Time seemed to move in slow motion as he pulled out a familiar black disc, one that Darcy recognized as one of Natasha's.  She waved her hands in the universal sign for STOP, but the man threw the disc towards Ralphie, and with aim that surely appeared to be superhuman, it zoomed through the grill on the front of the motorhome and went straight for the engine, frying it to a crisp.

 

"What have you done?!?!" she shrieked, rushing towards her truck.  "You complete and total MORON!"

 

Steve watched her try to stop whatever was happening, but it was all for naught, because metal armored shutters began to unfold all around the vehicle, causing it to create an airtight bunker around it, locking everything out.  

 

"That's really advanced technology," Steve muttered.

 

"When Ralphie senses danger, he tries to protect me," she spat out at him.  "And I can't tell him to open up, because I'm not in it!!  You've locked us both out of the only way to get out of here alive, you fucking impetuous dickwad!"

 

She put her hand up to her ear and flipped a switch, "Nat?!??  Nat!!  Help, help, help.  Are you there?  I'm going to freeze to death and get eaten by coyotes.  NAT?!?"

 

Steve blinked down at the little brunette, feeling bad for her panicked state, but his suspicions as she talked into her earpiece grew.  He reached for it and pulled it gently from her ear and held it up to his own.

 

"Romanoff?!??  What kind of game are you playing?"  Steve demanded.

 

"Wait---what?" the angry brunette whirled around at him, looking madder than anything Steve had ever seen before.  In that moment he would freely admit to her being the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.  Fury and righteousness and determination blazed on her gorgeous face.

 

"Nat...Natasha Romanoff?" Steve guessed softly.  

 

"How---how do you know that?" 

 

Steve sighed and gave the unresponsive ear piece back to the seriously beautiful brunette.    He then held out a dirty hand to her respectfully.

 

"Because I'm Steve Rogers.  And how exactly do you know Natasha Romanoff?"

  
  


Darcy blinked up at him in astonishment, a lot of things making a lot of sense all of a sudden.  Specifically how she hadn't managed to accidentally murder the man with all of the shenanigans of the day.  She reached for his hand and shook it weakly, still in a daze.

 

"I'm Darcy Lewis.  I'm your transporter."

 

* * *

 

 

"I DON'T WANT TO GO TO BED! I WANT TO WATCH AUNT DARCY AND UNCLE STEVE FALL IN LOVE!!!!!!!!!"

  
  


"Cooper Barton, you will go to bed, it is past eleven," Clint ordered.

 

"FALL IN LOVE!!  FALL IN LOVE!!" Cooper began chanting at the surveillance feed that Nat had displaying at the home base, along with the audio feed from the supposedly disabled ear piece of Darcy's.  Darcy had cursed Steve out handily, before the natural survivalist in her kicked in and she began to take stock in what she had been keen to leave Captain FREAKING America with.  Steve tried to build up the fire, but was finding it next to impossible with all of the wet wood.

 

The pair was silent for now, but were working well together, as Steve took care of the ropes Darcy had used to tie him up, setting up snares and placing them in a wide perimeter around the fire, in case anything would try to sneak up on them in the night, as Darcy split the rations.

 

They were staring at each other intermittently though, just missing each other's gaze as they sized each other up and found each other impressive now that they knew they were not each other's enemies.  A calm spread through the both of them as they realized the baby boy they adored would be happy now that the toy was secure.  But still, the tension was now different between them and was palpable and Cooper's chanting was infectious.

 

"FALL IN LOVE!" Lila joined the chant.

 

"FALL IN LOVE!" Wanda and Sam joined in with welcomely gleeful smiles.

 

"FALL IN LOVE AND HAVE BABIES!" Laura Barton shouted.

 

"Babe," Clint sighed.

 

"C'mon, you know their babies would be so pretty, and shit babe, Baby Rogers is someone that we can matchmake with Nate!" Laura insisted, a little too gleeful for Clint's liking.

  
  


"Problem though," Scott held up his hand as Cooper, Lila, Wanda and Sam continued to chant at the video projection of Darcy and Steve.  "I have... _ A POWER _ .  I said that with capital letters, if you couldn’t tell."

 

"A Power.  To be a pain in my ass?" Clint wondered.

 

"I can sense when a show is about to go from HBO Family to late night Saturday Skin-emax," Scott said bluntly.  He pointed to the screen and rattled off, "Sharing a blanket.  Huddling for warmth.  Sexy firelight.  Two very attractive people who are obviously well suited for one another and spent the day duking it out.  I think what I'm trying to say is..."

 

Scott got a cheeky little grin on his face and started dancing and shimmying in his seat before singing out off key, "Bomp chicka wow wow!"

 

"KIDS!" Laura shouted suddenly.  "BED.  NOW."

  
  


* * *

 

 

"I'm not eating that," Darcy declared.

 

Steve couldn't help but smile softly.  He was happy to have discovered a fault in the girl.  Half an hour ago, she had had no problem warning him that she was about to pop a squat in the little brush next to her beloved vehicle, Ralphie.  He'd quickly discovered that she had a foul mouth that would have made the Howling Commandos blush (Well, Dum-dum would have also taken notes and Bucky would have laughed himself silly).  And she was plenty capable, declaring that if they were careful, they could stay the night, then head out into the morning in order to get word that they needed a rescue.  

 

It was nice to see her balk at SOMETHING, even if it was the squirrel that Steve was skinning.  

 

"Not that the pop-tarts and zagnut bars aren't good," Steve said with the soft smile still on the corners of his mouth and in the firelight imbued eyes.  When she had told him the zagnuts were for Bucky and she’d have to get more, he had gone a little boneless and starry eyed.   "But with my metabolism, I'm going to need some protein, or I'm going to be totally useless in our journey out tomorrow."

 

"Well, if you hadn't of killed my sweet Angel Baby Ralphie, I could have given you five or six cans of Spam," Darcy sighed, looking to her RV, which looked like a metal igloo at that point.  Completely safe and impenetrable.  She had no doubt the engine would heal itself.  It was something Jane and Erik had figured out with one of their own mechanical failures.  Ralphie never needed mechanical maintenance.  All of the parts were self fixing after a good night’s RV sleep.

 

"Says the woman who tried to kill me three times today," Steve's soft smile turned into a teasing smirk.

 

"You ran into Ralphie that first time!  WHO DOES THAT?" Darcy demanded.  "Steve Rogers, Idiot supreme!"

 

Steve laughed and shook his head, making a mental note to never leave Bucky and Darcy in a room together unsupervised.  He was sure that the two of them would organize an elaborate roast in his honor given fifteen minutes of planning and strategizing.  

 

"We've been stranded all of an hour, and you're already skinning roadkill," Darcy continued to tease.  "I mean, don't get me wrong, when the zombie apocalypse comes, I want to be with you and Nat, because I'm fairly certain that means I'll survive, but this is like---camping."

 

"Super healing means that I need protein," Steve shrugged, putting the skinned animal carcass on skewer and popping it onto the barely lit low fire.  "And you put me through the ringer today, Miss Lewis.  I need to do some healing."

 

"Again, if you hadn't of tried to tackle my poor motorhome, then you wouldn't have needed to be healed," Darcy insisted.

 

"Oh yeah, and the cheap shot to my manhood?" Steve countered quickly.

 

"That's just a smart thing for a lady to do when faced with a big lug of hunky manhood towering over her," Darcy petulantly insisted.

 

"The toy...it's for Nathaniel, then?" Steve guessed.

 

"Yup, because I'm the best Aunt ever," Darcy declared.

 

"You're the reason why Cooper wants to constantly go out on supply runs, then," Steve nodded.

 

"I'm awesome," Darcy nodded wisely.

 

"Hmmm," Steve turned his spear.

 

The smell of fire cooked meat began to waft in the cold night air and when Darcy's stomach growled at the tantalizing smell, Steve wisely said nothing.  But he did go check his snares again and was happy to find a rabbit to add to the fire.  

 

* * *

 

 

"Finger foods are sexy."

 

Sam Wilson's declaration had Clint sitting upright and glaring at the man who was sitting next to Wanda as they all watched Darcy and Steve teasing and flirting with one another by the fire.

 

To her credit, Wanda hid her smile behind her hand, but the flush of her cheeks told a different story.

 

"Nat?" Clint questioned into the comm system.  "When Darcy and Rogers are done with their courting ritual and come back to base, make sure to remind me to tell Darcy not to bring back anymore of those little mini foods that Wilson likes so much."

 

"Understood," Natasha answered back.

 

Sam wrinkled his nose and poked his fingers into Wanda's midsection, causing the young woman to giggle.  

 

"Wait until I tell Rogers what disgusting things you two are currently doing," Clint grumbled.

 

"We're sitting next to each other, we aren't even holding hands!" Wanda disputed, suddenly wary at having Steve find out about the budding THING between her and Sam.  

 

Clint smugly pursed his lips and squinted his eyes at the pair, who put a little physical distance between themselves.  "Still totally tattling."

 

* * *

 

 

"Thor skinned this beast when he was Three-hundred and four years old," Darcy shook out the supposedly mystical blanket.  

 

Steve was disbelieving that the thing could keep the both of them warm through the night.  He would do better to go for a quick jog around their makeshift campsite and get his body temperature as hot as possible.  And then, maybe possibly Darcy would survive if he held her close all night long.

 

His mouth twitched upwards in a quick motion at that.  He realized what Natasha was doing, of course.  He wondered who else was in on it.  He wondered if it went as high as Pepper, using her business connections to cause the toy shortage.  Surely Laura Barton was involved.

 

Steve found it safe to assume that every woman in his life was currently in on his current predicament.  Natasha had said that since his life had settled (somewhat) with the absence of the shield and his Captain designation, it might be a good time to start dating.   Sharon Carter was no longer interested, but had ended things amicably and was still a highly valuable member to the team.  

 

But Natasha always had plans regarding Steve's love life.  

 

He wondered what he would have to do in order to get them a secure quinjet pickup in the morning. 

 

"You look like you're thinking about Calculus.  That's disgusting, don't do that," Darcy shook her head.  

 

"You do know what's happening here, don't you?" Steve said as quietly as possible, wondering what kind of surveillance was in play.  He casually reached out and grabbed the ear piece that Darcy had been wearing, crushing it quickly between his fingers.

 

* * *

 

 

"OH NO!" Scott yelled.  "NO!  We can't read lips and there is no closed captioning service on spy cams.."

 

"I can read lips," Clint smirked.

 

"Oh, okay, then narrate," Scott encouraged as the Steve on the screen got really close to Darcy, his lips against her ear as he whispered.

 

Clint gave Scott an unimpressed look, but was met with an expression dipped in wheedling need.  The archer sighed and stared at the screen, focusing on Steve's mouth, which was still visible as Natasha manned the direction of the camera feed on the silent drone hovering in the night sky.

 

"Let's get ourselves to bed--- _ doll? _ " Clint blinked at the screen as Darcy grinned and shook out the cover again before covering herself and Steve with it.  "Hold on, wait, what did I miss?  When did Rogers get game?  What happened?"

 

* * *

  
  


"Nat has been overly eager to get me back to the home base for the past six months," Darcy whispered softly as she and Steve positioned themselves under the cover.  It was toasty warm underneath it, and she didn't know if it was from the magic power of the pelt or if it was the furnace of a human being less than half an inch from her own body.  

 

"We're being set up here," Steve nodded.

 

"Oh, makes sense," Darcy sighed.  "I swear, a girl makes one comment about how baby Nate is a cute little mushy faced monster and all of a sudden it's ' _ LET'S FIND DARCY A BABY DADDY TO PLAY HIDE THE STAR SPANGLED PICKLE WITH _ !'"

 

"I'm not star spangled anymore," Steve arched an eyebrow.

 

"Yeah, I much prefer this hot lumberjack look," Darcy murmured, her eyes darting up and down the length of Steve's body really quickly.  "So, what's our play?"

 

"I don't know, that depends," Steve shrugged.

 

"On?" 

 

"On what you want," Steve said seriously, the words rushed and nervous.  "I mean to say---what do you want to do?"

 

"Okay, first things first, clear communication is the way to do this.  It's the way to do everything, actually, the lack of it is what got us into this mess in the first place," Darcy nodded.  "So, this is me, Darcy Lewis, of sound mind and body asking you, Steve Rogers, formerly star spangled, do you want Natasha's matchmaking schemes to succeed?  With me specifically?"

 

Steve blinked at her in dumbfounded astonishment.  She was visibly nervous and a little embarrassed to be putting her statement out there so bluntly, but she had done it anyway with a reckless sort of courage that Steve found endearing and relatable.  And he also liked how her eyes went a little wide and her pupils went even larger with every passing second of being under the blanket together.

  
  


She was a spitfire.  She was capable beyond what her body suggested.  And what a body she had.  His finger tips itched to touch the inward curve of her sinfully plush waist.  He wanted to haul her against him and see if the chemistry he thought he could feel was the real thing.  She was smart and funny and she'd been willing to completely destroy him in order to bring happiness to a small, loving child.  

 

"Yes, I'd like for Natasha to get her way.  Again," Steve nodded.  "I think you're----you're---"

 

"Hot?" Darcy supplied helpfully.  "Kick ass?  Dangerously cool?  A really good driver?"

 

"Yes, all of those things," Steve nodded.  "You're swell."

 

"Really, dude?" Darcy teased, her eyes lighting up in delight nevertheless.  Steve made another mental note not to let Bucky and Darcy meet.  Ever.  "Speak forties to me, it makes my heart go pitter patter."

 

"Doll, you're a real looker and a catch and a half," Steve promised.  "Prettiest damned tomato I've had the pleasure of squeezing in a long while."

 

"You haven't been squeezing anything yet," Darcy arched an eyebrow in response.  

 

Steve reached for her at the same time as Darcy pounced on him and the result was thankfully not another knee to the groin, but instead what should have been a gentle embrace turned into an open mouthed kiss, teeth clacking together as both of them let out a little snort of laughter.

 

Neither was about to let that get in the way, however, having both been subjected to awkward kisses in their lifetimes.  Darcy's hands went around broad shoulders and Steve's hands sunk into a soft waist, hauling her closer and the awkward kiss quickly turned into something entirely pleasurable at the first bold swipe of Darcy's tongue against Steve's had him groaning in the back of his throat at the hedonistic, perfect feel of her.  

 

* * *

 

"Okay, this seems---wrong," Wanda announced.  "It's private."

 

Clint's eyes were glued to the screen, where Darcy and Steve had disappeared under the Asgardian magic pelt that he sincerely hoped that Thor had not imbued with magical fertility powers.  He could make out the writhing forms underneath the pelt and realized that the pair of them were continually switching who was on top.

 

"They dry humping or hump humping?" Laura Barton demanded.

 

"Seriously, turn it off," Sam winced as Wanda crushed his hand in her own.  He understood where she was coming from.  He wouldn't want the team spying on THEIR personal moments either.

 

Darcy's ridiculous Christmas sweater was tossed out from underneath the blankets and the feed did cut off after that.

 

"Show's over folks," Natasha announced.  

 

"Aww, Nat!" Laura complained in tandem with her husband.   

 

"Creepy married people," Scott shook his head in disappointment at the clearly annoyed couple.  "We should get a ceiling mirror attached in your room!  Dibs!  That’s my Christmas present for the perverted Bartons!"

 

* * *

 

Natasha smirked as she put the quinjet at a low hovering altitude and set the autopilot on.  She opened up the little journal she was keeping for James.  He had requested she keep on trying to get Steve into a fulfilling relationship while he slept, so that when he was thawed and well again, they could go on doubles.  Natasha had thought that earnest, innocent plan to be charming and had promised to do her best.

 

Once the holidays were over, she had one more stop in Calcutta in order to get a specialist for Barnes, and then, she hoped, Darcy and Steve would be up for whatever a double date with her and Bucky would consist of.

 

Good intentions aside, she doubted camping would be on the list.

 

In the morning, when she landed the quinjet quietly next to Ralphie, she then clicked a few keys on the command board, letting the impenetrable metal igloo that Ralphie was encased in retract.  Natasha leisurely strolled off of the quinjet and approached the lumpy Asgardian  _ not  _ Fertility blanket with her usual stealth.  Two minutes later, the covers moved as the people underneath them stirred into wakefulness.  

 

One moan from Steve and a throaty giggle from Darcy had Natasha clearing her throat to announce her presence.

 

Darcy sadly stopped in her ministrations on Steve's earlobe and Steve couldn't help but be annoyed.  

 

"Did you unlock Ralphie?" Steve questioned loudly.

 

"Yes, I did," Natasha smirked.  

 

"Then go away," Steve advised.  "Darcy'll get us back home in time for Christmas."

 

"Don't you have something to say?" Natasha wondered glibly.

 

There was silence for a few extended moments and Natasha could see Darcy jabbing at Steve's sides underneath the pelt.  She could hear the eyeroll Steve gave, and then a begrudging,

 

"Thank you, Romanoff.  Now get the hell out of here."

 

"Sir, yes sir."

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Again, Happy Holidays to everyone! By Monday, I'll be bringing back updates on my regular works in progress. Thank you for indulging me and supporting me on this end of the year Holiday explosion.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


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